Everyone knows you wait until you get through the first trimester before you tell folks you are pregnant. It saves you a lot of explaining if things don’t work out. The whole “things not working out” was a very abstract concept to me before September 3rd of this year. Miscarriages were sad, but they were something that happened to other people. And I told Z that if we did have a miscarriage we wouldn’t hide it, we would be in mourning. So I was much more lax about keeping it a secret in my day to day life. Which was stupid. In most instances I was never going to see the people I told again. The lady in the bakery of the grocery store wasn’t going to remember me. But the mother of a boy in T’s swimming class at the Y certainly was.
His lessons are in 6 weeks sessions, with about a 6 week break between them. At the last lesson of T’s first session I was there without Z. We usually go together because we really enjoy it and it is easier to handle the locker room if I get changed while the boys are still in the pool, and then grab T to change him. But Z was out of town at a wedding. And my morning sickness had started. The motion of the water was really getting to me, and during his lesson I almost threw up. This other mother who we’d been friendly with throughout the session noticed I wasn’t looking too hot and asked if I was OK. I told her I was pregnant.
Last Saturday was the first lesson of the new session. I was still bleeding, so Z was going to take T alone. But our surprise trip to the ER foiled those plans. On Friday I told Z I didn’t want to go to the lesson with them this week. He pressed me for a reason and I finally told him that I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to face that woman and tell her I had lost the baby. When I thought about going my stomach cramped up. I just needed another week before I faced it. I was sort of expecting some sympathy, but he told me it was too much work to handle T alone and he needed me to go. And he pointed out it would be good for me to rejoin society and get out of the damn house. While I appreciate his honesty I was pretty resentful.
But I knew from experience it was a real pain in the ass to go alone. And for the last few weeks I have left the house only a handful of times, which of course has made Z pretty tense. We went out to eat at his request Friday night and though I ended up having a nice time I felt like my body was on fire as we drove to the restaurant. I’ve had good reason to stick close to home lately, but if I’m complacent about leaving the house I can get into real trouble. Physically I am right as rain now, so Z’s patience is wearing thin.
On Saturday morning Z was smart enough not to press it by asking me to go to the farmer’s market with him and T before the lesson. He let me sleep an extra hour instead. And even though I was trying to come up with a believable excuse that would get me out of it until the minute we were in the car, I went along to the swim lesson. We were late, which is really unlike us, so class had already started. The woman I was dreading waved at us from across the pool.
The lesson itself was great. I forgot how wonderful it was to watch T enjoy being in the water. We promised ourselves we would take him to the pool between sessions, but life got in the way and we didn’t make it to the Y even once. Seeing his ridiculously huge grin and hearing his squeals of happiness made me regret that a lot. I still resented Z for not being gentler with me, but at the same time I was grateful he bullied me into going.
Of course, at the end of the lesson the woman approached us to catch up. And she asked me how the pregnancy was going. Telling her I miscarried sucked for a moment, but then it was over. As usual the anticipation was worse than the event. And if I had skipped the lesson I would have had another week of dread. Damn Zeke for being right.
It was really hot on Friday, surely our last day near 90 this year. I took advantage of the opportunity by letting T run around in a diaper for most of the day. There’s nothing better than a naked baby. I’m gonna miss it during our long winter.